


How A Star Is Born

by NovelistServant



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Disney, Family, Family Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hercules (1997) References, Romance, hercules au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26830354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovelistServant/pseuds/NovelistServant
Summary: A Hercules AU, in which the Ruler of the Gods, God of Intelligence and Ingenuity, is blessed with a pair of twins who are destined to get in Bill Cipher's way, but their whole family is going to learn what it takes to become a true hero.
Relationships: Pacifica Northwest & Dipper Pines
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28





	1. A Celebration and a Prophesy

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER!: This is more based off of the Disney movie rather than actual Greek mythology and religion and beliefs. Please take no offense, as that was not my intention, and I do apologize if anyone is offended by this fic.
> 
> I will address one thing before we begin: in my mind, "god/s" can be replaced by "superhero/s" in this AU. All of the gods are basically immortal superheros who do as they please and mortals live to please them, yada yada yada. Again, i mean no offense, but I truly do hope you all enjoy!!! (I love comments, so feel free to drop some.)
> 
> We good? We're good. Happy reading!

Stanford smiled down at the crib and wiggled his six fingers at the babies snuggled in togas and a blanket made of silk. The girl, Mabel, giggled, her laughter like soft bells, while the boy, Mason, stared with eyes sparkling with admiration. Stanford’s chuckle was low and warm, full of love, and he had mastered the art of scooping both babies into his arms swiftly at the same time, cradling each twin in a strong, soft arm, so neither would feel left out or abandoned. **  
**

The small amount of pain in the god’s heart was overshadowed by joy and love for his grandniece and nephew. They were the only family he had now, due to circumstances mostly out of his control, a feeling gods rarely felt and were uncomfortable with. So rather than dwell on this, Stanford chose to channel his thoughts onto his children as he looked forward to raising them as his own.

The open ballroom was filled to the brim with gods and goddesses who had come to welcome the babies, currently dancing and singing along with the muses who provided music. Mabel bounced in Stanford’s hold, eager to dance and sing and play, while Mason held onto Stanford’s toga a little tighter. The god of Intelligence and Ingenuity smiled and gave his grandnephew a small squeeze of reassurance that he was right there for him.

One god ran through the crowd, bumping into people accidentally with his glasses skewed, but he soon emerged, panting and slouched forward before brightening up like a sunflower in the light. Fiddleford, the god of Inspiration, Motivation, and the Messenger of the gods (and god of creative swears, but no one talks about that), fixed his small glasses and greeted his partner with a warm grin. Something seemed a little different about Stanford, but Fiddleford ignored it to focus on more important matters.

“Fiddleford! You made it!” Stanford gently laid the twins down and hugged him, a bit uncharacteristic for him, but Fiddleford was happy nonetheless.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” He replied with a pat on Stanford’s back and they both looked down at the babies, who were observing the stranger, one with delight and one with slight confusion. “How beautiful.” He awed and waved at the new gods. “What’re their names?”

“Mason and Mabel.”

“Wonderful, absolutely wonderful. Oh, what’s that on Mason’s forehead?” Fiddleford asked and reached a hand to gently wipe the baby’s forehead, thinking it was a thread or something, but Stanford gently grabbed his wrist and said firmly,

“Nothing worth mentioning.”

Fiddleford swallowed, his eyes glancing down at the six fingers that stopped him, and he nodded in understanding. Clearly Stanford didn’t want unimportant differences to be accidentally weaponized against his nephew, or his niece for that matter. 

“Oh! Almost forgot.” Fiddleford reached into his endless satchel and pulled out a large bouquet of flowers and herbs. “For ya, my friend. Welcome t’the Dad Club!”

Stanford’s cheeks and ears turned pinkish as he accepted the bouquet. “Thank you, but I’m not a father…”

“Aw, hush, you’re as good as!” Fiddleford swatted his friend’s statement away. “And I brought my gifts for the wittle ones, too.” The skinny god reached into his satchel again and this time pulled out two metals with a lightning bolt hanging over a mountain, a field, and the sea. On the back, one read “Mabel” and one read “Mason” with a snap of Fiddleford’s fingers, having a bit of skill with metal. “There we are.”

“Thank you, buddy, they’re perfect.” Stanford watched as Fiddleford draped them around each baby’s neck. He was a bit worried of the necklaces choking the babies, but he swallowed his worry. They were gods, for crying out loud. What could ever happen to them?

Mabel instantly grabbed her metal and began to gnaw on it. Mason saw this and gave it a try, and then got excited and teethed far more vigorously. Stanford laughed and gently prided the gifts out of their gums, tickling their ribs and smiling as the babies cooed and laughed and grabbed his twelve fingers lovingly.

Fiddleford smiled and finally pinpointed what was so different about his old friend; he was the happiest Fiddleford had seen him in a long, long time.

“So, what gift will ya give ‘em, Fordsie?” Fiddleford asked casually.

Stanford prided his hands away from the babies as he smiled at them. “I have just the thing for them. They’re already so characteristic and different.” Stanford clapped his hands together and in a small cloud of lightning, a music box teleported into his palm, a gift he had crafted carefully well into the night. “For Mabel, something to soothe her far better than my lousy voice.”

Fiddleford rolled his eyes, an argument against the harsh statement on his lips, but he bit it back as he watched Stanford open the little chest and wind it, a tiny sailboat on a wave out at sea, rocking to the soft lullaby. Mabel and Mason’s soft brown eyes grew wide with admiration and Mabel reached up her chubby arms for the gift, giggling at the music. Stanford chuckled and placed it by the crib so the twins could watch the ship sail. While it may have been for Mabel, he was glad both of his children could enjoy it.

“And for Mason,” Stanford clapped his hands again, another cloud of lightning appeared between his hands as he pulled them apart, and a blue book decorated with a golden forest laid in his palm, thick but empty and ready to be filled with knowledge. “I’m afraid this one will have to wait until he is a little older, but it will help him to have somewhere to put his many thoughts.”

Mason’s eyes sparkled like stars and he clenched his tiny hands for it. Stanford laughed and played along, giving it to the baby to see what he would do, and the men were amused when Mason snuggled with it like it was a stuffed toy and Mabel ran her little fingers over the golden forest, finding it pretty and appealing to the eye.

The music box was still playing, slowly making the twins tired. With a sleeping Mason on top of the journal and Mabel snuggling with her brother, Stanford tucked their blanket in to keep them warm and comforted, and even kissed each baby on the cheek to wish them a peaceful slumber. And no, Fiddleford was not crying behind his friend.

“How sentimental.” A voice said from the opposite side of the vast room, and yet everyone heard it and fell silent and looked at the direction the chilly tone came from.

The gods came in many different shapes and sizes, but this god was the farthest from a human-like appearance than any other, a golden triangle with a black toga over his shoulder, the strange god floating so though he was the size of most heads, he was eye-level. That eye, that single eye, was cold and yellow with a slitted pupil, like a cat. And yet, Stanford grinned at the sight of him.

Bill, Master of the Mind and Ruler of the Underworld, as appointed by Stanford long ago, was not oblivious to the cold greeting and asked, “Yeesh, this an audience or a mosaic?”

“Bill, my friend, you finally made it.” Stanford greeted warmly as the triangle floated to him and managed to put on an eye that wrinkled in a half-convincing smile. “How is the Underworld?”

“Eh, you know, a little dark, a little gloomy,” Bill answered, tilting his hand back and forth in a so-and-so way. “And as always, full of dead people, whatcha gonna do? Ah, those the little knuckleheads? How cute.” Bill swiftly past Fiddleford, who seemed to have been standing in front of the crib, and the triangle floated over the sleeping babies, creating a change in lighting with a dark shadow over them.

Mabel and Mason stirred and Stanford smiled at his close friend and newest (and only) family members meeting. Both of the babies stared at Bill with wide eyes and blank expressions. Fiddleford read their expressions as fearful; Stanford read their expressions as surprised.

“Hm, they’re strong, like their great-uncle.” Bill observed, his eye peering at them deeply. “Powerful little tykes.”

“You really think so?” Stanford said optimistically as he stood by his friend’s side, smiling down at the babies.

“Oh, you bet. Heck, these guys one day could take on the greatest monsters the world as ever known.” Bill said, a master at hiding his bitterness at the back of his throat.

“Now, why don’t you grab some wine? Best there is! Join the celebration, live a little.” Stanford offered, gently elbowing the triangle, who drifted a few inches away as he chuckled coldly.

“Love to, babe, but unlike you other gods lounging around up here, I regretfully have a full time gig I gotta attend to. Can’t. Love to, but can’t.” Bill sneered and turned to leave.

“Good riddance.” Fiddleford mumbled under his breath, back in front of the crib with his feet firmly on the clouds, determined not to leave the twins’ side again.

“Really, Bill, you should slow down,” Stanford advised friendly. “You’ll work yourself to death.” The god paused as Fiddleford laughed behind him, then snorted and chuckled as he realized his unintentional joke. The whole room burst into laughter, grateful for something to lighten the tension on the mountain top, and Bill slipped away.

Fiddleford stood next to his friend and patted his shoulder. “Really, Stanford, I don’t trust that guy any farther than I can throw him.”

“Fiddleford, he’s my friend.” Stanford gently reminded him. “If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be where I am right now. I owe him all I have, and besides, I know how it feels to be looked down upon and judged.” The god held his right hand with his left, re-counting his fingers. Six. It was always six and always would be six.

The partners were distracted from their conversation at hearing Mabel laughing. They turned to find Mason hiding behind his journal and poking out from behind, playing peek-a-boo, and Mabel squealing with laughter and wiggling her arms with joy. Stanford and Fiddleford smiled and resumed their positions by the new gods’ side.

* * *

The Underworld was better than the Nightmare Realm in some ways, but worse in others. Bill’s powers were limited in the Underworld. It was cold and icy, rather than hot and fiery, like it was in the Nightmare Realm. Bill had way fewer allies here than in the Nightmare Realm, but he had more souls to vex his frustrations out on in the Underworld, and hey this place wasn’t crippling and bound to fall apart any minute, that was nice.

But what got under Bill’s bricks was the fact that he was so close. He almost had this dimension in his grasp, but he needed the help of his army to take control. If he were to strike now he would lose. He had a plan, he knew what to do, but with those two pains in the picture Bill needed to make sure they wouldn’t be in his way.

In a burst of blue fire, Bill appeared just outside of his pyramid-shaped castle and bellowed, “GIDEON!”

A chubby child with white hair up in a bun my dead twigs and a cold, icy baby-blue toga appeared smugly with a platter of worms and cockroaches. “Which will it be, my Lord…”

“Worms later, kid, just let me know the second Time Baby’s ready to talk.”

“Oh, he’s coming in… twelve seconds.”

“Thanks, go clip some Threads of Life for a few minutes.” Bill instructed as he floated inside the castle and to his high throne. A crystal orb was glowing and buzzing, and when Bill was sitting comfortably, leaning on his knuckles, the orb grew and displayed a picture of the one god Bill hated more than Sixer. “Time Baby.”

“Cipher,” The baby said in a deep, low voice. “What do you wish of me?”

“I wanna cash in that favor.” Bill stated plainly. “I have all the knowledge of the present and the past, but not the future, but you do.”

“We know that, and we know I owe you a favor, no need to narrate.” Time Baby growled. “Just tell me what you want to know so I can be on my way.”

“Sixer’s got two little brats hanging on his toga. Are they gonna get in my way or what?”

Time Baby sighed, tired and bored, and gave Bill the answer he wanted. “Eighteen years from your present date, the planets will align. When this happens, a weak spot in the dimension will form, just weak enough for you to be able to break a hole and have your allies join you. When this happens, you will finally dethrone Stanford and be free to rule.”

“YES!”

“But… if both of the twins should fight, you will lose.” And Time Baby was gone with a small pop.

Bill was still as a statue for a minute or two, until he burst into red flames with a glowing red eye and screamed, “WHAAAAAAT?!”

* * *

Gideon and Bill stood side by side at the entrance to the deepest, darkest chamber in the underworld. They both smiled darkly with eyes that gleamed with sickening joy.

“Gideon?”

“Bill,”

“Got a riddle for you.” Bill led the way in through the piles of bones, to a ghostly waterfall that had it’s priceless treasure suspended from the ground. “How do you kill a god?”

Gideon’s grin widened and twisted excitedly as Bill grabbed the tiny bottle of poison. “You make ‘em mortal.”

“You got it, Short Stack.” Bill handed him the bottle and said, “Give Sixer some time. He’s so worried about losing them they sleep in his room. The dweeb will convince them to be moved to their own room. That’s when you strike. I don’t care if you do it in Olympus or not, just give the kids the potion and kill them and don’t get caught.”

* * *

Bill was right; Stanford had their crib be by his bed their first month. Mostly to make sure they were taken care of, but if he was being honest it was to make sure they were safe.

Stanford was the happiest he had been in so long. Throwing lightning bolts to explode for the laughing babies, singing songs while Fiddleford played his harp, tickling their round baby bellies and reading them stories for bed and watching the young gods grow smarter and stronger. Stanford was pleasantly surprised how well he was at taking care of the children, first worried he was not equipped for the task, but Fiddleford, who had a human son on Earth, was a good friend and was always there to help.

One night the great-uncle took his time tucking the twins into the crib, making sure Mason had his journal, which he never slept without, and that Mabel’s music box would last a few minutes. “Ford, they’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“They’re still so young.” Stanford muttered. “Maybe they should stay in my room a few more nights.”

“Now, don’t ya worry yourself into a lightnin’ storm, they’ll have each other. They’ll be okay.” Fiddleford patted his back and walked the worried god out of the nursery, leaving the babies happily sleeping as they snuggled close.

Fiddleford later went on to deliver his messages and Stanford laid in his large bed to try to rest, a difficult task with his room feeling much bigger now and more intimidating, but he managed to fall asleep with his arms wrapped around his cloud-pillow.

In the dead of night, long after the music box fell silent, Mabel drooled in her sleep while Mason sucked on his toga. A dark shadow loomed over them, stirring them, and Mabel gasped and her breath was caught in her throat.

Stanford blinked drowsily as he heard a tumble, a crash, and what sounded like Mabel crying. No, not crying, _screaming_. The great-uncle immediately jumped out of bed and ran for his niece and nephew’s nursery, yelling, “I’M COMING!”

He threw the curtain out of his way and hurried to the crib that had been thrown over and lying on the front, Mabel still screaming and crying her little heart out. Stanford threw himself to his knees before the mess and dug around the sheets and blanket for his children, heart pounding and hands quivering. “Mason! Mabel! I’m here, I’m here!”

Stanford pulled back a sheet to reveal Mabel, lying on her stomach and wailing with hot tears streaming down her face. The god scooped her up and held her close to his warm chest as he scanned her for injuries. A little bruise was forming on her chest, but she would be okay. Stanford quickly turned his attention to the silent child, terrified something was wrong. “Mason! Mason!”

Stanford turned the whole crib upside down with one arm, scrambling for his nephew. He had to be here somewhere, they were fine, the bed only toppled over, right? Right?! But the baby was nowhere to be seen. 

Mabel continued to cry, her heart sounding broken, and Stanford ignored the single tear escaping his right eye to try to find his missing boy. “Mason! _Mason!_ MASON!”

* * *

Lightning attacked the sky angrily. A raven with a baby dangling from it’s talons flew down from the heavens onto a rocky valley, ignoring the wails from the one-month-old. It dropped the baby lazily before transforming into Gideon’s true form.

“Shut up already!” He growled, pulled out the bottle from his toga, and popped it in Mason’s mouth. The baby quickly drank the sweet potion, his heavenly glow fading as he did so. Gideon grinned and hissed, “C’mon, c’mon! Every last drop, kid.”

“Who’s there?”

Gideon jumped, turned into a snake, and slithered behind the rocks to hide, leaving Mason alone to cry and the bottle to shatter, spilling a drop into the dirt.

A hefty man with a buck tooth and worker’s clothes turned a corner with a lantern in his hand. “Over here, Melody!”

A woman with dirty blonde curls joined him, gasped, and slowly knelt beside the baby and tenderly scooped him up. “Oh, you poor thing.” She cooed. “I know, I know. It’s alright.”

“Hello! Dudes? Any dudes out there?” The big guy called out.

“Soos, I think he’s been abandoned.” Melody said sadly as the baby began to calm down.

“Poor dude.” Soos said as he petted the baby’s head and smiled. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you, lil’dawg. Hey, look, a necklace.” Soos flipped it over after seeing the symbol of the gods and read off the name. “Mason. Huh. His name’s Mason.”

“What a sweet boy.” Melody complimented as Mason grabbed her finger and observed her with eyes filled with wonder. “Why would anyone leave him here?”

“I dunno, sweetie. Whoa, what’s that on his forehead?” Soos shined the lantern to his forehead to make sure it wasn’t ants or a rash, but no. It was just a birthmark. “Oh. Phew. Just some angel kisses. That’s what Abuelita calls them. Hey, looks kinda like a dipper, y’know?”

“It does.” Melody giggled. “Well, let’s take Dipper here home.”

Gideon hissed angrily as the couple walked off with the baby. Oh, well. He got rid of one twin, that was good enough, right? And besides, what chance did a stupid mortal have against the Demon of the Nightmare Realm?


	2. Journey to the Past

No one had ever seen Stanford so angry. Down below, lightning struck the Earth fiercely. A bolt even hit a tree, making it catch on fire, and it grew until the whole forest was ablaze. Thousands of humans prayed for the gods to show them mercy and forgive them for whatever they did wrong, but their pleas were ignored as every god was sent out and coordinated by Fiddleford to find the lost baby. **  
**

While awaiting for any results, Stanford paced the temple with Mabel in his arms, sensing his anxiety and missing her twin, and therefore crying weakly into his chest, clinging onto him for dear life. His anger finally burning out, Stanford ceased his pacing and cradled his grandniece as he blinked his eyes dry.

It hit him right then and there with a force that would kill a mortal that this tiny little girl was quite possibly his only family left. Stanford had sworn to keep her and Mason safe and he had failed just one month into the job. They had been home, secure and guarded, and yet Stanford failed to keep them safe and now Mason could be hurt or worse. And he could have lost Mabel, too.

Shaking, the distraught god kissed Mabel’s head softly and whispered, “I’m sorry, my dear. I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Footsteps could be heard. Stanford knew something was wrong when Fiddleford was not using his god-like speed to run to deliver the message. He was stalling, walking like a mortal. The god of intelligence swallowed the lump in his throat down and waited for his friend to speak.

Fiddleford sighed. “We found him. He’s alive. A very nice family took him into their orphanage n’ are takin’ good care o’ him.”

“Why did you leave him there?” Stanford asked. “Why didn’t you bring my boy home?”

“Stanford, he can never come home. He’s mortal now.”

* * *

The ruler of the gods sat at his massive desk, holding his head as he re-read the reports of the sun’s chariot and when it was due to be covered by the moon, when he heard a small, childish giggle. He smiled to himself and rolled a scroll shut, deciding he had accomplished enough work for today.

“Hm, I wonder where my little starshine is.” Grunkle Ford thought out-loud and heard more giggling. He looked around the vast, open room, pretending to search, though he was quite sure he knew where his little girl was. “Is she hiding? She wouldn’t hide from her old man, would she?”

The giggling grew and was shushed in a hasty attempt to remain hidden. Grunkle Ford grinned and quickly lifted the whole desk with his super strength, but he was surprised to find no child beneath him. “Hm, where is my favorite niece?”

“Here I am!” A loud cheer ran behind him and made Grunkle Ford jump. He turned to find a little brown-haired girl in a white dress hanging from his big hair, grinning with a missing tooth in her mouth and with eyes that sparkled and shined.

“There you are!” Grunkle Ford tried to grab her, but Mabel hopped down and ran away.

“You gotta catch me!”

“Come here, you!” Grunkle Ford laughed as he ran after her, wiggling his twelve fingers, promising tickles if she was caught.

Mabel ran as fast as she could. Not quite as fast as Uncle Fiddleford could, but still fast. She ran through the halls of vases full of pictures and through the garden and in the fields of clouds, passing laughing gods as she did so and calling out hello and good morning to them. At long last Stanford dove and they tumbled on some fluffy cumulus.

“Got you!” Grunkle Ford laughed, making Mabel laugh, and he began to tickle her and nuzzle his little scruff against her neck, tickling her even more.

“Gr-Grunkle F-F-Ford, no!” The young god laughed. He ceased his tickling, having Mabel in his lap, and they both calmed down and reminisced in each other’s company. “All done with your boring grown-up work?” Mabel asked.

“For today, yes.”

“Yay! Can we play today? We can play sword-fighting!”

“That does sound like fun, but remember you have your art lessons with the muses soon.” Ford gently brought up.

Mabel’s smile dimmed. She liked her lessons, but she liked playing with her grunkle more. “Oh, okay. But can we play when I’m done.”

“Of course, and Fiddleford should be done with his messages by then, so he should be able to join us.”

“YAY!” Mabel cheered and bounced in her guardian’s lap. Playing with Grunkle ford was the best, but playing with Grunkle Ford and Uncle Fiddleford was the best best!

* * *

Mabel peeked out onto the valley below them. Just outside of the clouds was a vast valley filled with wildflowers. She could run around and play and even pick some flowers for Grunkle ford to surprise him. This was a good plan. Mabel smiled and took one step outside of the golden gate, but a pair of arms scooped her up and hugged her.

“Where are you going, young lady?”

“Grunkle Ford, let go.” Mabel giggled.

“Now, you know better than to leave Olympus.” Grunkle Ford said kinda stern-like.

“I’m just going down there, that’s all.” Mabel whined her explanation, pointing at the valley below. “I’ll be right back, I promise! I wanna go exploring.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you don’t go out there.” Grunkle Ford put her down so she could stand beside him. “It’s dangerous. You could get…”

“Hurt or get lost or even get kidnapped.” Mabel quoted. She had heard this many times before.

Grunkle Ford chose to ignore her cheekiness. “So, please, remember to stay inside Olympus…”

“At all times,” Mabel finished for him. “And if I see any strangers, don’t talk to them. Come straight home. Okay, okay.” She sighed as Fiddleford joined them, having heard much of the conversation.

“Mind your guardian, Mabel.” He warmed gently.

“Yes, Uncle Fidds.” She said, hugged them both, and ran off to play in the gardens.

“And be careful not to…”

“Stanford, who does she remind ya of?” Fiddleford asked with a chuckle. Stanford raised an eyebrow warningly at his friend, but then Fiddleford said, “She’s just like ya when ya were a youngin.”

“That’s what worries me.” Stanford sighed.

“She’s a god, for Hera’s sake, she’ll be fine.” Fiddleford assured him, ruffled the god’s graying fluffy air, and left him alone to his many thoughts.

* * *

Mabel broke off a piece of the twig and threw it down on the clouds, watching it disappear through a little hole and the cloud reform, her legs dangling off the edge of the temple as she growled in her throat and snapped off another piece of twig. Uncle Fiddleford bit back his chuckle and sat next to her. “Need somebody t’talk to, lil’ Sweet Tea?”

“I just wish Grunkle Ford would talk to me.” The twelve-year-old snapped bitterly. She hated that; she didn’t like getting angry, and she especially didn’t like getting angry at someone who was trying to help. She took in a deep breath to collect herself and she began to explain herself. “I was in the Hall of Records.”

“Hm, hm.” Uncle Fiddleford hummed and nodded, to show he was listening.

“And I saw that vase again with Grunkle Ford holding two babies.”

“Hm, hm.”

“When I asked him about it he took it from me and told me to go away. Well, okay, he told me to go out and play, but he wouldn’t answer my questions or even talk to me or look at me.” Mabel was kicking her legs to let out some energy. She was a sweet girl who never hated anything or anyone, but she hated secrets. “I know that baby was me and someone else but Grunkle Ford won’t say who! Why won’t he just talk to me?!”

“Mabel, sweetie,” Uncle Fiddleford put an arm around her shoulders and she instantly threw her stick down and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m sure he wants t’talk t’ya, but it hurts.”

Mabel blinked and looked up at Uncle Fiddleford when he said that. “Why? Did… I do something wrong?”

“No, honey, no.” Uncle Fiddleford quickly corrected himself and petted her long brown hair. “No, it’s not your fault, it’s just… You’re the only family he has now. That’s why he’s so overprotective, see, n’ why… n’ why he doesn’t wanna talk ‘bout your brother.”

Mabel stared at him with a hanging jaw. “My brother?”

* * *

Stanford held his head, his twelve fingers combing his gray fluff. He was doing it again. Making mistakes, letting Mabel down. He knew he should be more honest with her, but she would never look at him the same way again. Mabel was bound to blame him for the disappearance of her twin, just like he did, and the immortal didn’t think he could live with that precious little girl hating him.

A small hand touched his shoulder and he lifted his gaze from his hands, sitting up at his desk to try to appear more put-together than he really was. “Mabel, how may I help you?” He asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose and then smiled at her.

Mabel climbed up into his lap slowly and wrapped her arms and legs around him so she was giving her a powerful Mabel-hug. Grunkle Ford hugged her back and combed her hair with his fingers and rubbed her back, but was floored by what she had to say. “I know about Mason.”

The god’s hold tightened. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m not mad.” Mabel shared quickly in hopes that Grunkle Ford wouldn’t blame himself. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

“No, Mabel it was.”

“Grunkle…”

“You and your brother were… are my responsibility.” He said grimly. “I’m supposed to look after you, protect you, and I failed to do that. Your brother, Mason, was under my watch, under my protection, and someone stole him and turned him mortal.”

“Isn’t there something we can do?” Mabel mumbled into his chest.

“There isn’t.” Grunkle Ford said tiredly, but then made himself add something so Mabel wouldn’t give up hope, like he had. “At least, there is nothing _we_ can do.”

* * *

Soos and Melody held onto each other tightly on the cart, one grinning with excitement, one slightly terrified. “Dipper, slow down!” Melody shouted.

The twelve-year-old was deaf to the call as the wind howled in his ear from his speed. Despite being a scrawny kid with noodle arms and legs, Dipper was much stronger than he looked. Clumsily strong, but his strong legs promised speed when he chose to run, and with nothing but wide open spaces in front of him, in his mind, he was free to roam like a wild horse.

“You got it, dude!”

“Soos!”

“What? Best way to control his strength is to use it more.”

“Yeah, but… slow down, Dipper, we’re coming up into town!”

At once, the boy planted his heels on the ground, creating craters in the dirt, and the cart jolted so hard that Soos flew off and hit the wall of a building with a crunch.”

“Oh, man!” Dipper gasped and helped his boss up. “S-Sorry, Soos.”

“It’s cool, dawg,” Soos said calmly, dusting off his dirty, dark green toga and brown cap, smiling. “Best stop so far! You didn’t even break the cart.”

Dipper smiled sheepishly at that; most kids didn’t have to worry about that, but hey Abuelita always said count your blessings. “Want me to unload for you?” He offered, picking up the huge stacks of hay with one hand like it was as light as a feather.

“No, not yet, first I gotta finagle with the dude.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Any idea how much we made this season?” Melody asked, looking up the huge stack of hay Dipper let down on the cart with a loud bump.

“Well, let’s see…”

“Two tons of hay, making the weight four-thousand-and-three pounds, with a value of one-hundred-and-seventy-one euros.” Dipper stated plainly, not in a snobbish way like she should have known that, but in a way that made it clear that it seemed obvious to him.

This was not a surprise to either of the love birds. Not only was the orphan incredibly strong (and clumsy), he was very intelligent and had a head for numbers and math. “Wow, impressive, dude. Okay, you stay by the cart while Melody and I see if we can work out a deal.” Soos said and they walked into the ring of the town and entered a store.

Dipper sighed from the heat and leaned back on the cart, entertaining his imagination by multiplying thousands in his head, when he heard something that sounded like a struggle. The boy saw the other fellow farmer, Lady Susan, struggling with a huge box of fruits as she tried to carry it into the store, but Dipper hurried to her and helped her not drop it. 

“Careful,” He said gently as Lady Susan sighed with relief, grateful for the extra pair of hands as her helper was hidden by the crate.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” He said, peeking around to smile at the old lady.

At once her smile dropped. “D-D-D-Dipper, it’s you. H-Hi.”

“Hi. Let me help you take this inside…”

“Oh, that’s okay sweetie.” Lazy Susan said quickly and snatched the crate out of his hands and struggled into the store. “I-I-I-I got it, y-y-you go on and p-play.”

“You sure?” Dipper asked; it looked like Susan might break her back.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine!” And Lazy Susan let the door slam behind her.

Dipper kicked the dirt as he made his way back to the cart, but a frisbee blocked his path. He picked it up just as three boys his age came running, but froze like ice at the sight of him. “Hey, you need another guy?” Dipper asked, hoping for a chance to play. Maybe he could prove he wasn’t as weird as people thought.

“Uh, s-s-sorry, Dip, but we already got five and we want to keep it an even number.”

“Five isn’t…” But the frisbee was snatched and the three ran off before he could say another word, but that didn’t stop the hurtful mutter of “nerd” and “weirdo” from reaching his ears.

Dipper leaned back against the cart, hands behind his back. He tried to get his mind back to multiplying numbers, but voices echoed in his head. No wonder he was an orphan. No one would want a…

“Heads up!” The frisbee came flying back, way over Dipper’s head, but excited for a chance to show that he could do something right, he ran after the toy and jumped to catch it, a smile on his face, hoping and praying that for once…

SMACK! Dipper flew right into a pillar that wiggled and looked incredibly unstable. Dipper quickly stood up and tried to hold it still, seeing how if it fell a whole building would collapse. “No, no, no! Not again!”

One wrong motion and the pillar smacked into the opposite one, creating a domino-effect with the houses and buildings. Dipper gasped in horror and thought that if he could run to where the crash was happening, he could stop it. He freed his arms by throwing the pillar, but that caused another domino-effect. Dipper yelled with fear and ran as fast as he could to the edge of the town, but he was too late. Two huge rows of buildings were now reduced to rubble.

It was like all the townsfolk shot up at once and stared at Dipper. He smiled sheepishly and wiggled his fingers, but he didn’t have nearly enough charm to get out of this mess.

Soos and Melody were by his side in an instant. “Dipper…”

“That’s IT!” Lazy Susan screamed as she emerged from the rubble that was her store. “We can’t keep cleaning up after this boy, Ramirez!” 

The whole town yells like an angry mob in agreement. “L-Look, I’m really sorry, it was an accident.” Dipper stuttered. “I’ll clean it up, I can…”

“Haven’t you already done enough?!”

“He’s too dangerous to be around normal people!”

“Yeah!”

“Dudes, dudes, please,” Soos called and got everyone to quiet down. “He’s just a kid, he just can’t control his strength, but he will someday, just you wait and see.”

“I’m sorry, but we just can’t keep doing this!” Lazy Susan shrieked, stressed and angry. “You just keep that… that… _freak_ outta town!”

The crowd yelled and shouted in agreement, leaving poor Dipper alone with the odd couple who were now shunned because of him. At least the cart was still in one piece.

* * *

Soos stood at the doorway of the orphanage that sat on the farm. All the other kids had gone to bed or were inside playing, but one boy sat on the highest hill by a tree, watching the stars appear as the sun was setting. He was always stargazing. Soos sighed to himself and walked up the hill to try to help. “Dipper, you… don’t listen to those jerks. They’re just…”

“Soos, they’re right!” Dipper yelled and kicked the dirt beneath his sandals. “I am a freak! I try to fit in, I really do! But… I just can’t.”

“That’s a good thing, dude.” Soos said and stood next to the boy, who gave him a surprised look. “You shouldn’t try to be like anybody else. You should try to be like you, dawg, cuz you’re pretty cool.”

“No I’m not.”

“What, you kidding?” Soos lightly punched his shoulder. “Helping the lil’ dudes with school, getting tons of work done on the farm. You’re a cool dude, dude. Trust me.”

Dipper shrugged. “I guess, I just… I feel like I really don’t belong here.” He looked up at his caretaker and asked, “You said you and Melody found me, right?” When Soos nodded, Dipper pulled his metal out from under his toga and gazed down at the symbol of the gods. “This is the only clue I have to figuring out where I am from. Maybe… maybe if I know where I came from it’ll help me figure out who I am, why I’m so… weird.”

The boy sighed and tucked his necklace back under his clothes. He looked up at Soos and said, “I’m sorry, but I’m ready to go.”

To his surprise, Soos was smiling. “I know you are, dude. You’re old enough to know what you wanna do. I’ll help you pack.”

Dipper grinned and hurried back to the orphanage with him.

At sunrise, Dipper stood outside where he had been raised. Abuelita gave him a satchel full of food, Melody gave him a cloak to wear to beat the cold, and Soos gave him a noogie in farewell. With one last hug, the boy was off to discover where he belonged and who he was.


	3. Trainer of Heroes

Drenched and wet thanks to the rain and thunderstorm, Dipper entered the Temple of the Gods in the middle of the night for some privacy. He was immediately faced with a giant statue of someone who was more of a fable to him than a belief: Ruler of the Gods and god of Intelligence and Ingenuity, the six-fingered immortal Stanford.

With his large stature on a throne fit for a king, his square chin, flowing toga, and stern look, Dipper felt a little intimidated by the ruler of the gods. He entered the temple quietly and moved his focus to the paintings and vases on both the left and right walls. Stories and legends were told and Dipper happily followed the fables down a hall, on the right of the giant statue, and into a huge room full of more statues and paintings and vases.

“Wow,” He breathed, his voice echoed, and he moved to the center of the room and rested on his knees. Got to start somewhere, right? “I pray my pleas be heard in this place.” Dipper prayed. “Please, someone tell me who I am, where I belong.”

“Wow, look at you!” A cheerful voice rang, making Dipper jump to his feet and look around wildly. “You look just like me! We’re like twins! Oh, wait.” And then there was laughter.

“Hello?” The twelve-year-old boy called. “Who’s there?”

“Oh, right, sorry.” The voice said, but Dipper still had no clue where it was coming from. “Hi! I’m Mabel! I’m a muse! Well, muse in training. Still working some stuff out, but so are you! Go figure!”

“A muse?” Dipper repeated. “A goddess of the arts?”

“You got it!”

“So… where are you?”

“Try looking down at the art, genius.” The voice giggled and he looked down at a vase with a girl his age waving at him. The painting on the vase was waving at him. “Hi!”

Dipper yelled and fell on his feet, scooting away. “What the…?!”

“What, never seen a vase before?” Mabel giggled and twirled around. “Pretty cool, right? Hold on, let me find something bigger to work with, I’m cramped in here.”

“I-I-I don’t understand.” Dipper scurried to his feet and watched Mabel’s painted form move from one vase to another. “Y-Y-You said… D-Do you know who I am?”

“Course I do!” Mabel said from a skinny vase, then the tile floor, then a painted pillar, still finding a comfortable place to talk. “Well, I only learned about you a few weeks ago, but I always knew something fishy was going on. It’s pretty sad, no wonder Grunkle Ford didn’t wanna talk about it, but now you’re old enough to know the truth and I think I can help you!”

On a painting the same size as Dipper, the girl appeared and popped her back and twirled, feeling her new space. “Ah, much better. Hi! Still kinda scared?” She asked kindly, though she was bouncing and giggling.

Dipper smiled. Mabel the Muse did look a lot like him. Same eyes, same button nose, same hair. The only difference really was the fact that one was male and one was female. Dipper bet that if Mabel cut her hair to match his they would be identical. “No, not really.”

Mabel calmed down a little and said sincerely, “Glad to hear that, brother.”

“Brother?!” Dipper gasped and stared at her with wide eyes. “I… I have… I’m…”

“Yup!” Mabel cheered from inside the painting. “Surprise! You got a twin! Now tell me EVERYTHING! What’s your favorite food? What’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite animal? Do you like sports? Do you wanna be my friend?!” She asked all quickly.

“Now, hold on, hold on.” Dipper said, trying to piece this together. “If… If you’re my sister, that would make me…”

“A god.”

“A god… A _GOD_?!”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted answers, Dip-Dip.” Mabel said with a shrug. “BTW, Dipper is a way better name than Mason, good choice.”

“Uh, thanks.” Dipper raised an eyebrow. “How do I know it’s true? I mean… I’m not a god.”

“Well, okay. No, you’re not. But only cuz someone stole you from us and turned you mortal. See, that’s why you’re down on Earth and not up here with us.”

Dipper shook his head. “I’m sorry, but… but this doesn’t make sense.”

Mabel giggled and gave him her Skepticals. “C’mon, bro-bro, ever wondered why you’re super strong and super smart? Ever wondered where you got your necklace?” And Mabel pulled out her’s from around her neck and showed him her name and symbol.

Dipper stared, slowly pulling his matching one out and looking at it. This was crazy. This was stupid. There was no way Dipper was a god, had a family that actually wanted him, but… but…

Mabel had no real gain as to lying to him, not that Dipper saw. Maybe he was stupid for buying it, but just this once Dipper wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere. So he took in a deep breath and said shakingly, “I… I think I believe you.”

Mabel smiled and then gasped. “Oh! I forgot! I have something for you.” She reached behind her back and pulled out a book, a navy blue journal with a golden forest on it, filled with beautiful pinetrees. “This is yours. Grunkle Ford kept it safe for you.” And the painting pushed it through and Dipper was shocked when a real-life journal was being held out to him.

He took it and smiled down at that beautiful cover. A twinge of remembrance came through him, but he didn’t dare believe it.

“Uncle Fiddleford says Grunkle Ford gave you that when we were born. And he gave me this music box.” Mabel pulled the box out and wind it to hear the music. She hummed and asked, “Isn’t it pretty?”

Dipper bit his lip. Okay he definitely remembered that lullaby. “I remember…” He whispered to himself, and then asked his sister, “Wait, Grunkle Ford? Isn’t y-y-your great-uncle…?”

“Stanford, yeah.” Mabel said proudly with a grin. “He’s your grunkle, too! He’s the best! He misses you, like a lot, since you can’t live on Olympus with us. He tries not to show it, but I can tell.”

Dipper sighed. This was great, he had a family, but what was the point if he couldn’t be with them. “And you guys can’t do anything?”

“ _We_ can’t,” Mabel answered with a grin. “But you can!”

“I can?” Dipper repeated, allowing himself to believe it. The evidence was overwhelming. “What is it? I’ll do anything to have a family again! Name it and it’s half-done!”

“If you can become a true hero on Earth then your godhood will come back!” Mabel cheered excitedly.

“Okay, great!” Dipper replied. “Uh… How do I do that?”

Mabel’s face suddenly dropped. “You know what, I have no idea.”

“Mabel!”

“Well, hey! I’m not the god of all-knowing, am I?” She laughed, then gave the matter some serious thought. “I heard a rumor that there was a Trainer of Heroes on an island… Crete? No, Paros. A Trainer of Heroes on Paros. He should be able to help you.”

“Got it!” Dipper punched the air and said proudly, “I can do it! I’ll become a true hero so I can come home!”

“That’s the spirit!” Mabel cheered. “I know you can do it! Go on out there!”

Dipper started to run out of the room, but he stopped at the doorway and turned, looking at his long-lost sister gloomily. “I… I don’t wanna say goodbye.”

“Aw, Dipper,” Mabel sighed happily and pointed to the journal in his hands. “Remember, I’m a muse! If you wanna talk to me, just draw a picture or create something in your book and I’ll be there.”

“Can’t I beseech you? Can’t you come see me?” Diaper asked; he had been taught that gods can pretty much do whatever they wanted.

“Believe me, I’d love to.” Mabel huffed and blew some loose hair out of her eyes. “Grunkle Ford won’t let me leave Olympus; he’s convinced he’ll lose me, too.”

“Oh.”

“But don’t worry!” Mabel encouraged. “I know you can do it! I believe… oh crud!” And she was gone. She must have been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing.

Dipper laughed and hurried out of the temple and was on his way for Paros.

* * *

Out at sea, Dipper looked for a way to the island. Though he was super strong, he doubted he was strong enough to swim all that way. No, he would probably have to wait for a ship to come by and to offer work in exchange for a ride. The boy walked alongside the same as seagulls screeched above him, when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

At the mouth of a small cave, a sail flew in the breeze. Dipper grinned and grabbed some old rope and began to pull. Up from the dark cave and the damp sand was an old, busted sailboat with its name scratched out by a sword. Dipper grinned at the sailboat and examined it, trying to find a hole or a deficiency, but found none. Why would someone leave a perfectly good boat?

Dipper pulled the boat up onto the water and climbed on. He was beyond pleased to find it floated and he sailed onward for his goal.

After a few hours of peaceful sailing, Dipper came across a rocky island covered in pinetrees and fog. It was cold and unwelcoming, but the kind of place a Trainer of Heroes would swell, to test the bravery of hopeful young trespassers. Dipper quickly docked the sailboat and began to explore, a little surprised to find a triangular house on the top of a small hill, right outside the woods and a few safe feet away from the sea. The boy decided to try his luck there, but as he approached, he was bewildered to see a large yellow and red sign that seemed to shine through the fog.

“Mystery Shack?” Dipper read out-loud to himself. “What the heck is a Mystery Shack?”

The dethroned god opened the door labeled the main entrance and awed at the room filled with statues, but not of gods and goddesses or even humans. Of some of the weirdest monsters and frightening creatures the boy had ever seen. Dipper, oddly enough, was intrigued and excitedly entered.

“Wow, check all of this stuff out!” He gasped. “A six-pack-a-lope, a Gremloblin, and is that an opposite sphinx with a head of a lion but the body of a human?” Dipper paused at the more normal looking statue in the room.

An old man with his long gray hair kept back with a ribbon bore metal plates on his shoulders and a cape with his tall sandals, leather-padded skirt, and puffy shirt. Dipper peered at it closer, wondering why something so normal was among the abnormal, making it the most abnormal thing here. He reached to touch the statue, but he suddenly slapped him and growled, “Hands off the merchandise!”

Dipper screamed like a little girl, cleared his throat, and tried to scream a little more manly, all the while the old man stepped down from his tiny stool and dusted himself off, his tie red and his eyes a warm, sparkling brown, his snooze a strange orange color and his cloak was red, as well.

“Ah, the old mistaken-for-a-grotesque-lifeless-statue gag! Works every time! Welcome to the Mystery Shack, kid! Got any gold? If you throw some into this Sack of Mystery, I’ll give you a tour of the greatest, creepiest, deadliest creatures known to Greece!”

“Uh, no thanks.” Dipper said as he lightly shoved the Sack of Mystery out from under his nose. “Listen, you know where I can find a Trainer of Heroes?”

“Sorry, no one’s on this island but me.” The old man grunted. “So either pay to look at Snake-Haired Lady or beat it.”

“Come on, you sure no one else is here?”

“Listen, knucklehead, I’ve been here longer than you’ve been alive.” The guy growled as he walked towards the Employee Only door. “There ain’t no Trainer of Heroes here. Do yourself a favor and try Sparta, I hear it’s nice this time of year. Now scram before I find a big three-headed dog to chew you up and spit you out.” And the grumpy old man was gone.

Dipper rolled his eyes in annoyance. There were only two possibilities: either Mabel, a muse and probably the sweetest person Dipper had ever met, was lying, or a creepy old conman was lying, so Dipper decided that he wasn’t leaving the island until he found the Trainer of Heroes and he decided to investigate.

This place was filled with things heroes might fight, so maybe there was an exhibit full of heroes, and maybe there would be some information as to who trained them. So Dipper looked around and saw a doorway that had a big messy sign that read “Closed For Remodeling.” But a good inch of dust was on the door. Another lie?

Dipper turned the knob, but it was locked. He turned it again, his super strength coming into play, and he accidentally broke the handle off. Oops, at least the door was unlocked. Dipper let it swing open and he was delighted to find a big room filled to the brim with artifacts and old relics from past heroes. The boy slowly walked in, unaware of the log of wood over his head, and he bumped into it.

“Hey, HEY!” A loud voice rang and the old man was back, this time only in boxers, not even wearing a top to cover his round, hairy chest, and he growled, “Watch it, that was part of the mast of the Argo!”

“No way!” Dipper gasped as the old man shoved him out of the way angrily and moved into the room. “ _The_ Argo?”

“HA! Who you think taught Jason how to sail? Noah?!” The old man laughed harshly as he walked past paintings and vases. “I trained all those would-be heroes. Odysseus, Perseus, Theseus, a lot of -euses. And every single one of those knuckleheads managed to screw up! But then, oh boy. There was that Achilles guy. Now there was a guy who had it all! The build, the speed, he could not only throw a punch but take it and keep on coming for more! BUT THAT STUPID HEEL OF HIS! Barely gets nicked there once, and he’s done and out of the count.”

Dipper blinked a few times, letting this story sink in. “Y-You?! _You’re_ the Trainer of Heroes?!”

The old man sighed tiredly and leaned against a wall. “Call me Stan, kid.”

“Listen, I need your help!” The boy said and hurried to him. “I wanna become a hero, a true hero! Please, teach me!”

Stan snorted. “Haven’t you been listening to me, boy? There are no trainers on this island.”

“C’mon, please!” Dipper begged. “I have to do this. Haven’t you ever had a dream? Or just wanted something so badly you’d do anything?”

Stan looked down at the boy kind of weird for a moment or two, but then looked away, his eyes down like his hopes. “Yeah, I had a dream once. That I was gonna train the greatest hero there ever was. So great, the gods would hang a picture of him in the stars.” But Stan shook his head, like a dog clearing water out of its ears. “I ain’t training no more. Guy can only take so much disappointment, you know?”

“Stan, _please_ , I can do it.” Dipper pleaded. “I have to! If I don’t, I’ll never be with my twin sister.”

That made Stan’s eyes flicker to the boy, trying to detect a lie. “You got a sister?”

“Yeah,” Dipper sighed. “Her name’s Mabel. I only talked to her for five minutes my whole life, but she’s amazing. She and my Great-Uncle Stanford, too, I guess, are the only family I’ve ever known, and I’ll never be with them until I can become a true hero and get my godhood back.”

Stan snorted and held his breath. Dipper looked at him and then scowled. Was this jerk trying to not laugh? “H-Hold it, kid. Stanford, Ruler of the Gods and all that and a bucket of grapes, is your uncle, right?”

“That’s what Mabel told me.” Dipper said. “She’s a muse. Well, okay, a muse in training, but…”

Stan was covering his mouth as he tried not to laugh, but he was failing miserably. “St-Stanford? The big guy?! He’s your UNCLE?! Haha!” Stan beat his fist against the wall a few times as he howled with laughter. “Mr. Lightning Bolt! Haha! P-Poindexter and Poindexter Junior! AH, HAHA! ‘Read me a book, would ya, Gwunkle?’ HAHA! Th-Then Sixer goes, ‘Once upon a time…’ AH, HAHAHA!” Stan was wiping tears from his eyes at this point as he laughed and held his ribs, down on his knees.

“It’s true!” Dipper yelled and stomped a foot in anger, his face red.

“Oh, please!” Stan growled and stood up as he cleared his throat. “If that genius really is your family, why hasn’t he sent you here sooner, eh? You think that big jerk cares about family, or that any gods care about family for that matter? Take my word, kid, they don’t.”

Dipper shook his head. “Well, Mabel does. She wants to help me get home, so she sent me here. I’m gonna be a true hero and I’ll work as hard as I can to get there, and I’m gonna see her and be with my family.”

Stan crossed his arms over his chest and glared at him. “You’re really willing to sacrifice everything you got for some dumb sibling?”

Dipper glared back and nodded.

A slow, slightly-creepy grin grew on the wrinkly face until it ranged from ear-to-ear. “That’s what I wanna hear! Okay! I’ll do it!”

“Wait, what?”

“You wanna be a hero that bad? Fine, I’ll train you.” Stan said and led the way out of the door and through the museum for the outdoors. “I’m giving you one shot to prove to me you can take it, so show me whatcha got. Anything.”

Dipper grinned and hurried to a nearby tree that looked like it was dying. “Watch this!” He grabbed it like he was hugging it, pulled, and with very little effort the boy yanked it out of the ground and threw it into the ocean, where it splashed far out of eye-sight.

“HOLY HERA!” Stan yelled with a grin and slapped his forehead. “Alright, pipsqueak, listen up, here’s the deal. You’re a scrawny little twerp who could use a good slap from puberty, but lemme tell you, you got potential. You’re stubborn and crazy strong and that’s good enough for me, so here’s what’s gonna go down. I’ll train you, but fair warning: this’ll be the hardest thing you’ll ever do ever. I ain’t gonna be soft with you. I’m talking waking up before dawn and not falling asleep well past sundown. I’m talking potential broken bones and internal bleeding if you fail courses. You might even wish that blasted Underworld will come and getcha already. But if you can handle my training, you can handle anything. If you’re up to it, your training starts right now. Oh, and you’ll have to work for me in exchange for a bed and some food, got it?”

“Deal!” Dipper said and shook his hand without a second’s hesitation. “I’ll literally do anything you want.”

“You’re gonna regret saying that, kid.” Stan smirked and threw a broom into his hands. “First task, clean the museum. If I see a single speck of dust you’re going without dinner tonight. Now get to work.”

~~Stan walked back into the Mystery Shack, disappearing behind the Employee Only door again, but the moment he was safe from hiding, he held his face in his hands and swore under his breath. “Damn you, Sixer, you really made me miss the birth of my own niece and nephew? Fuck you.”~~


	4. We Need to Talk

Stan allowed the cool, salt-scented breeze to ruffle his clothes as he leaned forward at the window, watching lightning strike the ocean from a far. He and the kid were safe. A gust of wind threatened to kill the fire, so Stan closed the window and turned back to the fireplace, where Dipper sat flexing his hand after wrapping some bandages around his scraped knuckles. He stood up and grinned at his teacher. “I’m ready, what else have you got?”

“Hold it, buddy boy, that’s enough for today.” Stan chuckled and sat in his chair covered in furs, making a comfortable small throne for the king of the house. “Just relax.”

“C’mon, please.” Dipper begged and stood by his side. “This is the best I’ve ever done, let’s see if I can beat my record on the obstacle course or something!”

“Listen, key to being a hero is knowing when to start and when to stop.” Stan said as he leaned back and relaxed. “You might be a demigod, but you still need rest. Just sit back and enjoy the storm happening outside and try to put something in your gut. Soup’s almost ready, anyways.”

Dipper sighed, admitting defeat, and sat on his pillow next to Stan’s big chair. After a year of training with him, though his body still ached from time to time, he was succeeding more than failing recently. It was like he was finally on his way to becoming a true hero. He didn’t want to stop, not when he was so close to being with his family, but he knew better than to push Stan on an argument, and so he watched the fire crackle as he heard the lightning storm outside. “Stanford must be mad.” Dipper said to fill the air.

Stan snorted; Dipper had learned by now that the old guy had a weird hatred for the Ruler of the Gods. Ever since that first introduction Dipper never said another word about Stanford being his potential family, since clearly Stan wasn’t buying it, but every once in a while Dipper would talk to Mabel through the drawings of his journal, and she was always praising him and telling him stories of her and Grunkle Ford. Dipper believed her and decided to just keep his connections to his family to himself.

“Doesn’t take much to make that jerk mad.” Stan muttered and stood up to mix the soup.

Dipper shrugged, thought about his question, and decided to risk it and ask his mentor, “You got something against Stanford?”

“What makes you ask, kiddo?”

Again, Dipper shrugged. “You don’t really bad-mouth the other gods. I mean, I don’t care if you do, but you just seem to have something against one of the most powerful gods despite the possibility he could strike your house and burn it to the ground.”

“Ha! That’d be a new one.” Stan laughed harshly and tasted the soup and shrugged. “Eh, we’ll give it a few minutes. Anyways, I guess the other gods just ain’t worth my bad-mouthing. But if it’ll make you feel better I’ll bad-mouth the others, too, to make it fair.” He joked.

Dipper chuckled and let slip, “I don’t care as long as you leave Mabel out of it.”

“Right, your sister.” Dipper was surprised that Stan had remembered that; he never talked about his sister to him. “You miss her, don’t you, kid?” The old man asked, his back still to his student as he stirred dinner.

Dipper sighed and nodded. “I just wanna be a family again, that’s all.”

Stan finally turned to him and he ruffled the boy’s hair, making his bangs stick up and reveal his birthmark. “You’ll get there. I promise.”

Dipper smiled, flattened his hair again, and said, “Thanks.”

* * *

Olympus was filled to the brim and busy, the ballroom crowded and loud as the audience waited for the introduction of the Muse in Training. Stanford sat in his throne with Fiddleford by his side, both grinning and excited to see how far their little girl had come. The messenger even had a colorful array of flowers on his lap to give to her when she finished her performance.

“She’s grown up so much.” Stanford said.

“Indeed.” Fiddleford agreed.

The Ruler of the Gods glanced over at his closest friend and asked, “Do you think I’m too hard on her?”

“In what way?”

Stanford shrugged. “She wants to leave Olympus.”

“Not forever, my friend. She just wants t’see the world. Every other god gets t’come n’ go from here, she simply wishes t’as well.” Fiddleford reminded him.

Stanford took in a deep breath, held it, and let it go. “I’m thinking of giving her a curfew.”

Fiddleford blinked in shock and then grinned. “Really?”

“Perhaps… it’ll be good for her to have some time to herself.” Stanford theorized. “If I made it clear that she must be home by sundown, and if I gave her permission to go exploring after her lessons…”

“I think that’s a fair compromise.” Fiddleford said with a nod. “Really, has she done anythang t’prove she couldn’t be trusted?”

Stanford shook her head. “No. She’s the most honest, trustworthy person I know, right next to you and Bill, of course.”

“No offense taken.” Fiddleford chose to ignore Bill’s name drop.

“Then it’s settled.” Stanford sat up straighter. “After her performance, I shall grant her a curfew and allow her to explore the valley below us.”

“I think that’s a good start.” Fiddleford patted his shoulder. “You’re doin’ the right thang.”

Horns rang through the air, glittering smoke filled the air and collected in five groups, and there five beautiful ladies in white dresses stood on the stage, ready to introduce their apprentice. Stanford and Fiddleford applauded for the stunning arrival, along with the other gods, and after a swift show-off of their beautiful voices, the Muses parted ways to make way for the newest among them… but no one came.

A minute of dead, shocked, confused silence was deafening on the mountain, until a booming voice rang through and caused lightning to strike. “MABEL!”

* * *

“A little more bandages, some grapes for being a good boy, and a kiss to make it feel better.” Mabel kissed the tiny ankle by the black hoof and grinned at the animal by her side, sitting on the soft grass on her knees. “All done! You’re back in action, Waddles.”

The pig stood on all four to do a little trot in place. He oinked happily to find no pain in his leg and he licked Mabel’s cheek in thanks as she scooped him up to hug him. “Aw, you’re welcome.”

A clash of lightning over her head rang out. Mabel’s heart dropped as she looked up the mountain behind her, dark clouds hiding the top. She cringed and sighed. “I missed the concert, didn’t I?”

She knew it was risky to sneak away right before her debut, but she had to! The little piggy was hurt, caught in a branch, and Mabel had freed him yesterday and swiftly returned home, but Waddles still needed to be cleaned up or he could get an infection, so the first chance she got the young goddess slipped away and helped the animal.

Mabel stood up and sighed. No point in trying to hide. As if on cue, Fiddleford could be seen running down the mountain at super speed and relaxed at seeing Mabel in the valley. He ran up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Mabel! Ya know you’re not allowed off Olympus! Stanford’s worried sick.”

“I know, I know!” Mabel whined. “But Waddles needed me.”

“Who?” Fiddleford looked down at the pig oinking at Mabel’s feet and rubbing against her legs.

“Waddles.” Mabel introduced. “I call him that because he waddles.”

“Sweetie, ya ain’t suppose to name it.” Fiddleford said with his eyes shut. “Once you name it, ya start gettin’ attached t’it. Now c’mon, I’m supposed t’take ya home.”

Mabel took the time to scratch Waddles goodbye and then allowed Fiddleford to walk her up the mountain gloomily.

At the gate Stanford was pacing, a nervous wreck, but when he saw his niece, rather than relax, he was hysterical. He pulled her into a tight hug and checked all over her body for injuries, and then proceeded to grab her by the shoulder tightly and walk her into their temple with Fiddleford behind them, prepared to play referee and to stop his friend if he became too harsh.

“Mabel, how dare you leave without my permission!”

“I’m sorry, but Waddles the pig needed my help…”

“I don’t care, let the other gods take care of it if they see fit to do so!” Stanford snapped. “You are to stay on Olympus where I can keep you safe!”

“Grunkle Ford, please, nothing has ever happened to me and…” She bit her lip. Oops.

Stanford’s whole face turned red with anger. “You’ve been down on Earth before, haven’t you? Haven’t you?!”

“O-Only twice.” Mabel mumbled to her feet with her hands behind her back.

“MABEL!”

“Stanford, control yourself.” Fiddleford said warningly next to his partner.

“Sweetheart, do you have any idea how dangerous Earth is?!” Stanford scolded. “Have I taught you nothing?! You could have been kidnapped, or hurt, or worse!”

“I can take care of myself, I’ve been doing it for thirteen years.” Mabel said weakly.

“You are not ready!” Stanford bellowed. “You’re just a little girl! You’re too…” He bit his tongue and backtracked, stopping himself from saying something hurtful. “You’re only thirteen! You’re not ready for the mortal world!”

But Mabel was staring up at him, finally, with eyes filled with tears. “You were gonna say ‘weak’, weren’t you?”

“N-No.” The god looked cornered. “No, sweetheart, I wasn’t.” He had never been the best at lying.

Mabel bit her lip. “You think I’m weak. You think I’m just some stupid girl.”

Stanford got on his knees and put his polydactyl hands on her shoulders. “Mabel, darling, no…”

Mabel shrugged his hands off of her and walked past the males for her bedroom. “It’s fine, I don’t care. Bet you wished I was taken instead of Mason, huh?” And she closed the door behind her harshly.

Stanford stared at the wood that separated him from his family. For a few moments no one moved or said a word, until Stanford said weakly, “Do you think she truly believes that, or only said it out of mixed emotions?”

Fiddleford stood behind him and patted his shoulder. “Well, in retrospect, ya don’t talk ‘bout him. At all. N’ when ya do, you’re extremely mournful of it.”

“Yes, but not because…”

“I know,” Fiddleford stopped him. “N’ I think she knows it, too, deep down, but I think she needs a gentle reminder that that’s not how ya feel. Give her some alone time to breathe, n’ then talk to her, not yell at her.”

Stanford nodded and rose with shaking knees. He was surprised to find a smile on Fiddleford’s face. “What?”

“She reminds me a lot of her great… excuse me, her grunkle.” Fiddleford shared.

Stanford snorted. “We are a lot alike…”

“I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout you.” Fiddleford said as he walked away. “I’m just sayin’ that sneakin’ off t’care for an animal n’ namin’ it n’ basically adoptin’ it as a pet is somethang a young god once did.” And he left Stanford alone with his thoughts.

He sighed and muttered to himself, “I know she is a lot like him. That’s what worries me.”

* * *

If Stanford was honest, he admired Mabel’s room. It was a beautiful place with fluffy clouds, a big window showcasing the world below, a soft bed with a nightstand that hosted her music box and a vase of her family, and every inch of her walls was coated in paintings. Birds, people, trees, animals, the moon and sun, everything, even the ceiling, was covered in beautiful paintings. Stanford always loved to sit with her and talk, and occasionally be given permission to paint with her, though he felt unworthy of that privilege today.

Through the door he could hear the music box playing. That was a relatively good sign. Grunkle Ford gently knocked on the door and waited for permission to enter. “Mabel, sweetie, may I come in?”

“Mm, hm.”

Grunkle Ford slowly opened the door and found her in her usual spot. Criss-cross on the bed, by her nightstand, and hugging her pillow with her arms and legs and she had her face down on the fluffy cloud of a pillow to hide. “Mabel, I owe you an apology.” Grunkle Ford said as he stepped into the room and closed the door. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I’m sorry.”

Mabel sniffed into her pillow and rested her chin on it, showing her beautiful brown eyes that were still forming tears. “I’m sorry I ruined the performance.”

“It’s okay,” Grunkle Ford sat by her side, giving her a few inches of space. “I don’t care about that, not nearly as much as I care about your safety. I was so scared of losing you, but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

Mabel sniffed and tried to blink her eyes dry. “I like you better as a dad than as a god.” She mumbled, mouth covered by the pillows and her eyes peering up at him.

Grunkle Ford smiled at that, feeling his heart in his throat. “Yeah?”

“And you like me better as your d-… kid than a muse, right?” She cried, her face now fully in her pillow.

“Oh, Mabel.” Grunkle Ford whispered and gently scooped her up into his arms and held her tenderly. “Oh, my darling Mabel. Yes, of course I do.”

Mabel let her cloud pillow go and she hugged him around the neck. Grunkle Ford rubbed circles into her back as he whispered gently to her. “Sweetheart, I love you very much. You’re my entire world. The idea of being without you… it terrifies me. But I’m afraid I’ve allowed that fear to cloud my better judgement, and I’m sorry. And, for what it’s worth… I’m beyond grateful The Faiths gave me you.”

Mabel sniffed, letting her grunkle’s toga catch her tears. “You don’t wish M-Mason was here instead of me?”

“No,” Grunkle Ford said. “I do miss your brother, more than words can say, but I love you very much and wouldn’t trade you away for anything in the world.”

Mabel looked up at him with hope glistening in her eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Cross your heart?” Grunkle Ford chuckled and crossed his heart. Mabel rested her head there and smiled with a tiny giggle. “I love your heartbeat.”

And no, Grunkle Ford was not crying. He stubbornly cleared his throat and blinked his eyes dry as he combed his niece’s beautiful brown hair. “So, I have a proposition for you.”

“Okay?”

“I know you want to come and go like everybody else, but I’m afraid I can’t allow that. I still stand by what I said. You are still young. Something I envy actually.” He added and they both chuckled. “But I think I have a nice compromise.”

“Isn’t that bending the law?”

“Uh… no. It’s an agreement met in the middle of what both parties want.” Grunkle Ford loosened her hold on her so they could look at each other. “Here’s what I am offering: I am willing to give you a curfew if you promise me you can stand by it. After your lessons, you may go down to the valley at the base of the mountain, and perhaps a bit into the woods that surround the valley, but you must tell me when you are leaving and you must be home by sundown. Does that sound fair?”

“YES!” Mabel cheered and bounced in his lap. “Yes, that’s all I want! I just wanna go exploring! Thank you thank you THANK YOU, Grunkle Ford!”

He chuckled and smiled at her. “Promise me you will follow the rules?”

“I promise.”

“Cross your heart?” And Mabel did so before leaping back into his arms for a tight hug. And no, Grunkle Ford still wasn’t crying. “Thank you, my dear.” He said as he hugged her again. “I’m glad I can trust you.”

Yup. That hurt. That made the tears come back in Mabel’s eyes. She hated secrets, more than anything, and she loved her grunkle but hated it when he kept things from her, but that didn’t make it right to keep things from him. She blinked her eyes dry and muttered into his shoulder, “You can’t trust me.”

Grunkle Ford let her sit on his lap to look at her softly, though his heart did pick up speed at that statement. “What do you mean?”

Mabel sighed and bit her lip, not looking back at her great-uncle. “I’ve been talking to D-… to Mason.”

Grunkle Ford stared at her. “You have?”

“I didn’t leave Olympus!” Mabel quickly explained. “Not really! I just projected myself on the art in the Temple of the Gods when he went there to pray and know who he was! I couldn’t help myself, I’m sorry! He deserved to know! He’s my twin! Twins shouldn’t keep secrets from each other! And I had always wanted to talk to him! And, and…”

“Mabel, Mabel,” Grunkle Ford hushed and combed her hair with his six fingers. “It’s alright, it’s alright. I’m not mad. I… I knew you two would meet someday. I hated the fact that you had to be apart, it wasn’t fair. I just… I… Well, how did he take the news that he was a god?” He asked with a low chuckle.

Mabel gave a watery giggle. “He didn’t believe me at first. But he came around. He’s trying to become a true hero so his godhood will come back.”

“What?!” Grunkle Ford gasped and asked sternly, “Did you tell him that was possible?”

“Well, yeah, cuz it is…”

“Mabel! You shouldn’t have done that.” He scolded as lightly as his anxiety would let him. “He could get hurt or killed.”

“But how else is he supposed to come home?” Mabel asked.

“At least he has a chance to live a happy life on Earth.”

“But Grunkle Ford! If becoming a hero will bring him home…”

“He can’t come home if he’s dead, Mabel!”

The girl growled in her throat, losing patience with Grunkle Ford’s hopelessness, and yelled, “Well, what was I supposed to do?! I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing! Do you have any idea how much it hurts to lose a twin?!”

Mabel had shouted that more in a rhetorical sense, expecting Grunkle Ford to not answer, or to admit defeat and say no; what she definitely didn’t expect was for Grunkle Ford to sigh, nod his head, and say, “I do, actually.”

The young muse blinked at him, letting his words sink in. Grunkle Ford looked so sad, so full of shame. It was the same way he looked when he thought about Dipper and believed he was alone. “Y-You do? Did you have…?”

Grunkle Ford nodded solemnly. “I did. Once. A long time ago.”

Mabel had a million questions for him. She wanted to know everything, but she decided to open with an easy question to ease her uncle into telling her what happened. “Well, what’s their name?”

Grunkle Ford met her eyes with a small, sad smile on his face. “Stanley. The Trainer of Heroes.”


	5. Waltzing Around on the River

Years went by. Both Dipper and Mabel went through vigorous training under their uncles’ supervision. After allowing Mabel to visit the world, Stanford had combat training be added to her lessons so, if needed, she could defend herself. Now a master of duel swords and a brand new goddess of the arts, Mabel spent her days inspiring humans, helping to keep Olympus beautiful and safe, and exploring the woods throughout Greece.

She also spent a lot of time talking to Dipper. At least once a week he would sit at night and draw in his journal to talk to his sister, swapping stories and inspiring each other to learn and grow.

Dipper was no longer a scrawny little boy, but a strong, muscular, clever young man of seventeen. Stan had never been more proud in his entire life, boxing with the kid and having him go through trials and tests and watching him grow up. He even managed to teach Dipper a few swears.

Stan coughed into his fist, standing at the end of the most difficult obstacle course Dipper had ever been set to. He grinned as Dipper emerged from shark-infested waters, blazing hoops, electric spikes, and racist homophobes, without a scratch on him, and Stan and Dipper high-hived and cheered and celebrated.

“You did it, kid! You were great!”

“Thanks, I couldn’t have done without you.” Dipper said with a smile.

“Obviously.” Stan smirked, earning him a soft punch in the beer belly. “Oof! Okay, okay. You go pack up, ya gremlin. We’re going to Thebes!”

“Isn’t that place, like, the worst place in Greece?” Dipper asked as they headed back to the Mystery Shack.

“You got it, you’ll be just what the doctor ordered.” Stan explained. “Young hero like you can help a lot of people in an Underworld-hole like that. Great place to start out. If you can make it at the Big Olive, you can make it anywhere.”

The men set sail before the sun rose the next morning. For some odd reason, Stan locked up the shack in a way that made it seem like they were never coming back, but Dipper assumed it was only because Stan believed that Dipper could make it big. The young man smiled, determined not to let his teacher down, and made sure they were on the right track.

After sailing across the ocean for a few hours, they floated into a river that traveled along the woods, taking a shortcut for Thebes rather than travel through the sea for Greece. Stan was resting in a chair with a cold drink in his hand, letting Dipper sail for a while, when they heard a scream. 

The old man shot up and grinned. “Perfect! A damsel in distress! Good warm-up before we hit down. Lower the anchor here.”

Dipper did as he was told and they crept down the river for the waterfall, where they saw a young lady stumble away, groaning and growling in her throat.

The girl had long, beautiful blonde hair and stunning blue eyes that crackled like raging fire, wearing a long baby-blue dress. She hurried to her feet but was soon scooped up by the enemy that came around the river bend. 

A huge Manotaur with a toga around his waist was so huge he grabbed the woman in his fist around the waist. “Not so fast, sweetheart.” He growled.

“Put me down right now, Chutzpah, or I’ll…!” The woman threw a punch at the monster, but he held her away and laughed.

“I like ‘em fiery!”

“HEY!” Dipper yelled from the riverbank and stomped on the river, leaving Stan in the bushes to munch on some popcorn.

“My money’s on Hooves.”

The girl and Chutzpah stared at the newcomer and the monster growled, “Beat it, twerp, I’m busy.”

“Sorry, mister, but you’re gonna let her go, or…”

“Keep moving, junior.” The girl sneered.

“... or I’ll…” Dipper’s sentence dropped and shattered. “But aren’t you… er, a damsel in distress?”

“I’m a damsel.” The woman said as she tried to pull herself free from the giant fist. “I’m in distress. I can handle this. Have a nice day.” She said with a sly grin with cold blue eyes.

Dipper swallowed and cleared his throat, reaching for his sword. “Uh, ma’am, I think you might be too close to this situation to realize your…” But the Manotaur punched him with so much force that Dipper flew onto a big boulder on the other side of the river.

Stan winced while Chutzpah laughed and the damsel looked bored. “C’mon kid, shake it off!” The old man coached.

Dipper charged, leaving his sword behind, and started to toss left and right hooks back and forth and landing, making the monster dizzy, and then used his head to hit him so hard it was his turn to fly back onto a hard surface, landing behind the waterfall and dropping the girl in the process.

“YES! That’s what I’m talking about, sport! Keep it up!”

“UGH!”

Dipper looked down at the wet girl and gently scooped her up out of the river to sit on a rock. “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am. That was dumb… Excuse me, please.” And he and Chutzpah resumed their battle, the demigod using his strength to throw the Manotaur over his shoulder and putting him in a head-lock.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Stan chanted while the girl rang her hair dry, a smirk on her face.

“Not bad, not bad.”

“What are you talking about, he’s great!” Stan cheered. “Throw him a left! Atta boy!”

With one final punch, Dipper made Chutzpah the Manotaur fly up in the air and then come back crashing down face first in the water, a shiny bruise on his snooze button.

“Alright! Nice work!” Stan coached. “You could’ve gone without the distraction from a pair of big goo-goo eyes, but good recovery! Alright, let’s hit the water and move on.” And he walked off for the boat.

But once again, Dipper was distracted. The woman was rubbing her arms dry and sliding off the rock to stand, stretching her slender back; Dipper’s face felt hot and his whole body felt like it wasn’t even there. “Uh… are you alright, miss…?”

“Pacifica.” The girl said with a voice that dripped with sarcasm, like she believed she had better things to do than be standing here and talking to him, but she didn’t know what. “I’m fine. Thanks for the save. So, you got a name to go with all those rippling pectorals?”

“Uh… um, ah… I’m uh… uh…”

“Don’t speak Greek or something?”

“Dipper!” The man cleared his throat and answered in a calmer tone. “M-My name is Dipper. How did you get mixed up with the…”

“Knucklehead with hooves?” Pacifica finished for him. “Ah, you know how men are. They all think ‘no’ means ‘yes,’ and ‘get lost’ means ‘take me, I’m yours.’ Well, thanks for everything, Dip. Bye-bye.” And Pacifica began to walk away.

“Wait!” Dipper called out quickly, a reflex of seeing someone beautiful and cool-headed going away, and he offered sheepishly, “Uh, c-c-can I give you a ride on my boat, erm, me and Stan’s boat?”

“I’m fine,” Pacifica giggled coldly. “I’m a big tough girl, I tie my own sandals and everything. I can look after myself. See ya, Dippin’ Dots.” And Dipper watched as she disappeared beneath a hill.

“Uh… bye.” Dipper said weakly, clumsy on his feet as Stan sailed their small boat behind him, going down the river for Thebes.

“OY! Knucklehead! We going or what?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah… yeah…”

Dipper pulled himself on board, smiling with his head in the clouds. Stan sighed and shook his head, muttering, “Twitterpated.”

As Pacifica traveled further and further into the woods, the atmosphere got darker and darker. The young lady walked as coldly as the air, unafraid and all too familiar with who was approaching her. When a huge gust of blue fire erupted from the Earth and a floating triangle appeared before the teenage girl, she rolled her eyes and sneered, “Great, I needed cheddar for dinner.”

Bill cackled as he held his three-sided body and kicked his legs in the air. “Oh, my little Llama. Care to explain what exactly happened?” He made a chess board appear before him with various pieces of monsters and anomalies on the board. “I thought you were gonna persuade the River Guardian to join my team for the uprising and, here I am, kinda River Guardian-less.”

“I gave it my best shot,” Pacifica said coldly as she flicked Chutzpah off the board. “But he made an offer I had to refuse.”

“Okay, fine,” Bill replied as he made the board disappear, closing it like a book. “Instead of taking two year from your lifetime sentence, Imma add two on, okay? You got your best shot?”

Pacifica groaned and walked away, leaning against a dead tree. “Look, it wasn’t my fault, okay. It was this Wonderboy who beat your Manotaur up.”

“Wonderboy?” Bill repeated.

“Some new hero who came with this big innocent farm-boy routine, but I could see through that in a Peloponnesian minute.” Pacifica said with a cold snap of her fingers.

“New hero, huh?” Bill said, a hand to what might have been his chin but was really just under his eye. “If some new guy is beating up my minions it could weaken our chances of over-throwing Sixer…” The demon stopped his talking when he heard a voice. He swooped Pacifica up into the trees as a dark cloud, just in time to hide from the intruder.

Mabel was running through the woods with a pig at her feet. He had grown quite large since the young muse had met the pig, and now they both ran as fast as they could, but the teenage girl made it to a tree first, planting a hand on it, making the dead tree sprout leaves with life, and she jumped and cheered and punched the air. “That’s twenty-two for me… How about twenty-two out of forty-five?” She asked Waddles.

The big tired pig flopped over and showed his belly lazily. Mabel awed and fell to her knees to scratch him. “Aw, you’re just a big dummy-dumb. C’mon, why don’t we go see if Grunkle Ford is too busy to hang out. This Mabel’s gotta have some family time.” And she picked up her pet pig and skipped back home.

Bill plunged back onto the ground, dropping Pacifica, who sat on a rock boringly, as Bill glowed red with fire and yelled loudly, “ **WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!** ” And soon every tree circling them was no more.

* * *

“Who’s a cute lil guy? You are!” Gideon said into his hand mirror, sitting at the front desk of the Underworld.

The huge doors flew open as Bill, still red and fiery with anger, entered and grew to the size of a giant before his minion. “ **YOU SAID YOU TOOK CARE OF THE TWINS!** ”

“The what now?” Gideon asked calmly.

Bill towered down at the white-haired chubby teenager and bellowed, “ **Sixer’s brats! The ones destined to stop me from ruling this dimension! You said they were dead as doornails! But the girl is still alive!** ”

“Yeah, so?” Gideon asked. “The prophecy said both twins had to be there for you to lose. There’s only one. So there. And besides it took you seventeen years to realize Stanford was still dotting on his niece. If anything you suck at keeping up with your own prey.”

Bill shrunk down, shaking with anger and still red, but he had to admit that the jerk was right. “Fine, but the boy, Mason, is dead, right?”

“More or less.”

“”WHAT DO YOU MEAN MORE OR LESS?!”

“He will be when the mortal world is done with him.” Gideon sneered with a crooked smile. “That scrawny twerp doesn’t stand a chance in Thebes.”

“And you know all of this HOW?!”

“It’s fun watching him struggle and lose.” Gideon admitted with a shrug.

“I’m not taking any chances!” Bill yelled and floated away. “We’ve got one year until I can free my friends and take over this dimension! Since I can’t curse Shooting Star into a mortal, I can still kill Pinetree.”

“I’m telling you,” Gideon said, following his boss. “That loser doesn’t stand a chance. I know just who to send to kill him.”

And Bill’s anger melted away as he listened to his minion’s plan and helped make it better.


	6. A Million Troubles

The little sailboat gently glided along the river that would eventually pool into the sea. There, just as the river touched the vast salty body of water, there was a harbor that began the huge troublesome town of Thebes.

“Wow,” Dipper awed as he tied up the boat. “Is that all one town?”

“One town, a million troubles.” Stan quipped as he walked along the dock and his student hurried to catch up. “The Big Olive herself: Thebes. They say if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”

“Cool!” Dipper said as they entered the city. Never before had the farmboy seen so many temples and buildings clumped together, so many people in one place, so many speeding carts and horses and stray cats and the occasional mice that kept the cats fat and happy.

“Stick with me, kid,” Stan warned as they stopped with a group of people waiting to cross the street. “This place is dangerous.”

The horse-pulled carts came to a stop and some guy turned a red-hand vase so it showed a green walking man. They began to cross, but one cart sped by them and Stan had to dive on top of Dipper to push them both out of the way in time.

“Watch where you’re doing!”

“HEY I’M WALKING HERE!” Stan screamed back and made a rude gesture and he got up from Dipper, somehow miraculously getting a slight hint of a Latin accent. “See what I mean? Knuckleheads, all of them.”

“Then you should feel right at home.” Dipper sneered playfully, earning him a firm punch on the shoulder as they walked on.

A few minutes into town, after passing a shady conman that Stan saw right-through, a cute lady at a corner asking if anyone was wanting a good time, and a naked guy singing about accepting yourself, loving yourself, while waving around a dead chicken, the two men walked up to a fountain, taking notice of a group of people talking woefully.

“It was horrible.” A whiny troll-looking guy said as he rinsed his cap into the fountain, trying to get the soot off his clothes. “I lost everything in the fire. All of my beautiful vases and stone tablets.”

“Now were the fires before or after the earthquakes?” A big red-haired guy asked.

“They were after the fires.” A red-haired girl a few years older than Dipper answered with. “But before the flood.”

“Not to mention the crime-rate.” A skinny guy with a small mustache added in. “Seems every time I turn around, there’s some new monster running havoc!”

“1220 has got to be the worst year I’ve ever heard of.” The red-haired woman said as she kicked a rock harshly and crossed her arms over her chest. “Can’t we just move to Sparta, Dad?”

The entire time the locals were complaining, Stan was elbowing Dipper encouragingly and gesturing for him to go ahead. Dipper cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me.” When all the eyes were on him, he felt a little nervous, but he went ahead. “It seems to me that what you need is a hero.” He said confidently and puffed his chest out with his hands on his hips.

The crowd did not look impressed. “Yeah,” The big guy snorted. “And who are you?”

“Um, I’m Dipper.” The young man said, trying to keep his confidence up, but was failing. “But I happen to be a hero, and…”

The four laughed at him and Stan narrowed his eyes as the townsfolk had their doubts if this young man could possibly help them.

“Have you ever saved a town before?” The small troll-like man asked.

“Uh… n-no, not yet…”

“Or reversed a natural disaster?” The big guy asked.

“Uh… n-n-no, but…”

“Ugh,” The red-haired woman groaned. “He’s just another chariot chaser.”

“Don’t you knuckleheads get it!” Stan yelled, placing a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “This kid’s the genuine article!”

The little ugly man narrowed his eyes and adjusted his thick glasses to get a good look at the old man. “Hey… isn’t that the fallen god that trained Achelles?”

Stan’s whole face turned red and he began to shake with anger. “Watch it, pal.” He growled like an angry dog.

“Stan…”

“Hey, you’re right, Toby.” The big guy said and laughed harshly. “Oh boy! I needed this! Some amateur hero trained by the worst god of existence!”

Stan let go of Dipper and began cracking his knuckles. “You wanna go, buddy, c’mon…”

“Stan, Stan!” Dipper had to use his god-like strength to hold his teacher back as it looked like he was going to pounce on the big guy who looked like he could rip a tree out from the ground if he wanted to. “He’s not worth it, let’s just go.”

Stan, still growing, allowed Dipper to lead him to a large set of stairs while the four walked away. Soon Stan swatted Dipper’s hands off of him and they sat to try to think.

Dipper, meanwhile, was thinking about what that guy had said. A fallen god? That may very well have only been a cheap insult for the Trainer of Heroes, but Dipper had first-hand experience in the matter. Gods can fall. Was it possible that someone who had practically raised him and trained him to be a hero so he could be a god again knew exactly what it felt like to be someone you’re not?

“Stan, wh-what those guys were saying…”

“Listen, kid,” Stan said tiredly and held his head. “You’re gonna hear some really bad stuff about me in this town, and some of it is true, but I need you to trust that everything I’ve ever done has been so that family sticks together, okay? I’m gonna get you to your twin, okay? I’m gonna help you become a true hero if it’s the last thing I do, okay? All I ask is that you trust me. Please.” And he looked up at the teenager heavily.

Dipper swallowed as he saw a million and one emotions in his eyes. After everything this guy has done for him and planned to do for him, Dipper decided that trusting him was the least he could do, so the younger of the two nodded, but their moment was interrupted by a cry for help.

“Help! Help, please! Help!”

“Pacifica?” Dipper muttered as he saw a lush amount of blonde hair try to make its way through the crowd. “Pacifica!” He stood and hurried to her as her eyes lit up at the sight of him and hurried.

“Wonderboy… Dipper, thank goodness! Outside of town, by the sea, this little boy was playing and there was a horrible rockslide! He’s trapped!”

“Quick, show me where he’s at!”

Pacifica grabbed Dipper’s hand, making his whole face turn red, and she led the way through town back towards the sea, north of the harbor and just below a mountain that led to Thebes’ Temple of the Gods. Stan quickly followed behind them and a few townsfolk decided to keep an eye for entertainment purposes mostly.

On the damp sand there was a rocky wall side from where the tide often comes in and forms a wall, separating the town from the ocean. Dipper could hear a boy’s cries coming from behind a rock and he hurried across the beach, leaving Pacifica, Stan, and the townsfolk on the sidewalk.

“Help! I can’t breathe!” The boy coughed and desperately pleaded, “Somebody call I-X-I-I!”

Dipper stood by the big boulder and said calmly, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get you out.”

“Hurry, please!”

Dipper looked up at the giant boulder and took in a deep breath. This rock was huge, one of the biggest things he had ever had to lift, but if he could accidentally destroy half of his hometown, he can lift a boulder. Right?

He grabbed on from the bottom and struggled for a moment, but with gritted, deep breaths, and sheer determination (Stan’s calls of encouragement also helped tremendously), Dipper was able to slowly lift the boulder up from the tiny cave in which the white haired boy was trapped behind.

The boy ran out quickly and Dipper asked in a strained voice, “Y-You okay?”

“Yeah… J-Jeepers, mister.” The boy awed. “You’re really strong!”

Dipper smiled and said after he threw the boulder into the ocean, “Just try to be a little more careful, okay?”

“I sure will!” The boy replied as he ran off into the town.

Stan cheered and hollered, only stopping when he was coughing and he bent over a little to cough sharply into his fist. The townsfolk gave a small applause for him, only a little impressed, as the boy climbed up the side of the mountain and went into the mouth of a large cave, where he was met with Bill in his throne, sipping on live worms, and Pacifica, who sat with her legs dangling over the edge.

“Jeepers? Mister?” Pacifica sneered.

“I was going for innocence.” Gideon said as she changed back into his older self and sat next to Pacifica to watch the show.

“You both did good.” Bill said coldly. “I was really moved by your performances. Great opening act.”

Meanwhile, Stan was at Dipper’s side and patted him hardly on the back. “Great job, kid! They even applauded! Sorta, but still!”

Dipper heard something and turned to look out at the dark and dreary sea. Bubbles. “I-I don’t think that’s applause, Stan.”

Stan looked out at the ocean and saw a shadow form under the bubbles, and soon they were shocked to find a big green head emerge from the water with sharp teeth and small eyes, followed by a long neck and a fat body, the monster roaring like a horrible siren.

“St-Stan! What the heck is that!?” Dipper asked his mentor.

“The _Gobblewonker_!” Stan yelled as he pointed at the monster. He pulled out Dipper’s sword from his scabbard, put it in his hand, and ran back to the screaming crowd for safety.

“Let’s get ready to **rumble**!” Gideon cheered and Bill snapped his fingers to make a ringing bell appeared.

* * *

Ford and Mabel were sitting on the front steps of their temple, having tea, as the young muse happily chatted and the aged god happily listened, but they were interrupted by Fiddleford’s wind-breaking running as he hurried up to his dearest friends and was short of breath.

“St-St-Stanford! It’s Mason! He’s battlin’ the Gobblewonker on the beach o’Thebes!”

Ford choked on his tea and had to spit it out. “WHAT?!”

Mabel punched the air. “Alright! He can take down that big dummy! I wanna see him do it!” And the young muse got up and started to run out of Olympus.

“Wait!” Ford called as he and his best friend ran after her. “Mabel, wait!”

* * *

Dipper slowly watched as the Gobblewonker’s neck positioned itself for attack, like an angry snake. This was no different than those garden snakes at the orphanage, right? The monster attempted to strike, but Dipper dodged swiftly on the beach. Again, and another dodge. Again, another dodge.

“That’s it,” Stan coached. “That’s it, kid, dance around, look for an opening.”

The Gobblewonker struck again, digging it’s sharp teeth into the sand, and Dipper was almost hit, but managed to spit out some sand and stand strong, unfortunately realizing a second too late that his sword was no longer in his hand, but lying behind him. Now having to multitask running the opposite direction and dodging a monster, as if this battle wasn’t difficult enough.

To distract it and buy some time, Dipper used his super strength and threw a huge rock at the Gobblewonker, who crushed it in his jaws while Dipper retrieved his weapon. He stood proud and ready to strike, but in one instant the monster engulfed the hero in it’s mouth and held its head up high to swallow Dipper like he was a pill.

Pacifica held her throat and cringed as the Gobblewonker licked his chops, but soon it was wincing, like it was in pain, and a gruesome scene of Dipper cutting the monster’s neck from the inside appeared before the audience and the Gobblewonker’s head and half its neck flew into the ocean, leaving red in the water and on his body.

“YES! THAT’S MY BOY, THAT’S MY BOY!” Stan cheered as the Gobblewonker’s body fell onto the beach with a loud splash and the dizzy hero fell to his knees. Stan was right by Dipper’s side and helped him up, lightly tapping his face. “Good job, kid, good job. C’mon, let’s getcha cleaned up.” And the old man helped his student get on his feet and shake away his dizziness from the acid that had been in the neck.

Up in the cave, Bill was turning red and shaking. Pacifica smiled, ready to see Gideon be burned to a crisp, but the young man was still, miraculously, perfectly calm.

“Gideon, your plan…”

“Bill, Bill buddy, relax.” Gideon rested his hands behind his neck as rain started to trickle down on the mortal world. “It’s only half time.”

The Gobblewonker’s body twitched behind the two men. They both turned and were very disturbed to find it standing up on its own and suddenly three heads emerged from the opened neck, ready to attack the hero again.

“HOLY HERA!” Stan yelled and ran aside to give the hero his chance.

Dipper backed away until his back was against the rocks, smiling. “Ha! You’re trapped in water, huh?”

The three-headed-Gobblewonker must have understood the young man and decided to prove him wrong, because the sea monsters climbed up out of the water and onto the same to better attack the human.

“Oh, jeez.” Dipper groaned before letting instincts take over and he chopped an incoming head off to dodge and get out of being cornered against the rocky wall.

Dipper allowed his adrenaline to take over and soon he was swinging at anything that came towards him. This, of course, was a bad idea and soon Dipper stood with his back to the sea at a thirty-headed-Gobblewonker, bigger and meaner and more powerful than ever before.

“WILL YOU FORGET THE HEAD-SLICING THING?!” Stan yelled from the sidelines.

Dipper swallowed as a clawed-flipper scooped him up and pinned him against the mountain side, all thirty heads getting closer and closer and ready to rip him apart limb from limb.

“C’mon, kid!” Stan cheered. “Use that big head of yours! C’mon!”

Dipper did some quick thinking, looking up at the mountain, and without a second to lose, he pounded his combined fists against the mountain on his left side, causing an avalanche. One by one the heads were crushed and more red stained the rainy beach, leaving only a fisted-up claw in the clear, unnoticed by the audience.

“NO!” Stan screamed and hurried to the rockpile. “C’mon, c’mon kid, stay with me. Stay with me!” The old man fell to his knees and started to move rocks out of the way, trying to find his student. “No, no, no! Please!”

Meanwhile, Gideon and Bill were smiling twisted smiles. “Hm, nice job, kiddo.” Bill said to Gideon. “You’ve redeemed yourself.”

“Told you it would work.” Gideon said calmly.

Pacifica looked down at the old man trying to get the young hero back with sad blue eyes.

“I… I can’t…” Stan panted under his breath. “I can’t lose…” But then he heard something that made him stop digging.

The fist was wiggling, finally noticed. The townsfolk were worried it was the Gobblewonker, still alive, and Stan stood ready to die trying to kill the monster that took his kid away, but everyone who was watching was beyond surprised to find Dipper priding the monster’s dead fingers off of him and standing tiredly with his clothes in rags.

Cheer erupted, everyone deaf to the yells of anger from Bill and the yells of pain from Gideon, or the dark cloud that appeared by the small cave as the three vanished.

The townsfolk yelled and celebrated and ran down to Dipper and Stan, but Stan was the first to congratulate the new hero, holding him in his arms and giving him noogies and yelling to the top of his lungs. “YOU DID IT, KID! YOU WON BY A LANDSLIDE! HAHA!”

And there, up in the dark rainy clouds, Fiddleford danced with Mabel cheerfully for Dipper’s first victory, leaving Ford standing there, mouth open, speechless with pride. “I… I can’t believe it… my boy… he…”

“I told you!” Mabel cheered and punched her uncle on the shoulder. “I was right, you were wrong! Looks like somebody has to sing the Ford Was Wrong Song!”

Ford chuckled and smiled down proudly at his nephew, who was now being carried away by the other humans. To congratulate him, Ford threw down joyous lightning bolts to dance among the jubilant rain.

Dipper caught the lightning striking the ocean and he smiled to himself, daring to believe that his family might be proud of him.

* * *

In the Underworld, Gideon was on his hands and knees, weak from pain and whimpering. This was the fifth time he was being punished, and Bill wasn’t done. The young white-haired man looked up at his boss and pleaded. “Bill, I…”

With a snap of the triangle’s fingers, Gideon’s tongue burst into flame and the teenager cried out and clawed at his mouth. Bill glared maliciously as he snapped his fingers again and Gideon’s whole body was suffocated in flames. Again.

Soon a sad pile of burning flesh was at Bill’s feet slowly healing again. “First you couldn’t even turn both twins into mortals. Then the one left mortal you let live. And now he lives and kills off one of my most powerful allies for taking this dimension!” Bill snapped his fingers again, burning Gideon alive again, sentencing him to pain that would kill a mortal.

Halfway through healing again, Gideon whimpered through tears, “I can still kill him. He’s still mortal. He got lucky.”

“You better.” Bill said coldly. “You’ve got one year to kill Pinetree, and every time you fail, I’ll kill you again until either he’s dead or you wish you could stay dead.” And the triangle left his minion alone to cry on the floor and think of how he was going to kill the man destined to defeat Bill.


End file.
